


It's Halloween Again - Complete

by AnAnYaH



Series: It's Halloween Again [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dead John, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, Self-Harm, Sherlock in Denial, Sherlock is gangraped, Sick Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 09:27:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21317902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAnYaH/pseuds/AnAnYaH
Summary: John is dead, Sherlock is in denial. He believes that he can bring back John somehow and makes attempts to contact him.Its a compilation of my mini series 'It's Halloween Again 'Thanks to Janet Gray for asking me to write it in one single part.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Series: It's Halloween Again [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1486049
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	It's Halloween Again - Complete

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sevenpercent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenpercent/gifts).

8.30 PM

We are starting without you 

8.31PM

John

No! I just took the bus. Wait.

8.32PM

No! You were late for trick or treating, we don't want to keep our ghosts waiting. 

8.34PM

John

No! I have already missed my daughter's first trick or treating, I don't wanna miss more. The Ouija board was my plan.

8.35 PM

Alright! We give you 15 more minutes. If you don't come by then we will start it anyways.

8.36PM

John 

Since when do you love encounters with ghosts more than waiting for me ?

8.37 PM

If things go well , I might start believing it from tonight. 

8.38PM 

John.

You know it's just a bloody board game, and you can wait for at least half an hour for me.

8.38 PM

12 minutes John.

*******

'It's already 9. Your father is already 10 minutes late. It's time for the Ouija. Rosie…candles ready?'

"Ready"

'Doors locked?'

"Locked!'

'Curtains closed? '

"Closed!'

'Then all we have to do is set the game and summon your ghost.Who do you want to call ?'

" Santa?''

'Why? Don't I bring you enough gifts?First, if there is one, let's say hello to that ghost lingering in our flat.Okay?'

''okay!''

'Don't be scared. I am about to switch off the lights and lit the candles.'

''lit the candles… then switch off the light!?''

'Where is the fun in that ? Moreover who wanted it scary this Halloween. Oh! It's you Rosie… So be prepared!Cause the ghost of Baker Street are about to rise from the bottom of hell and fly inside through that crack in the wall and sit right next to you for tea and biscuits. But don't be afraid! All they can do is blow wind to your ear, or lift you up in the air or grow you wings or a beautiful but very long tail.'

"I don't want a tail"

' Oooh! It's not about what you want. It's about what they want. '

" I don't want to play this game "

' Little Rosie afraid of ghosts? '

" I am not afraid. "

' Then it's time for the dark '

Sherlock turned the lights of and immediately with flick of the matchstick he lit up the candles. Golden light filled the darkness of the room . 

' Now what is the name of this board? ' 

'' Ouija.''

'Spelling? '

''O, U, I, J, A ''

' What about board ? '

'' B, O, A, R, D ''

'I am so proud of you , I am gonna summon santa.Now see this pointer? Place your index finger on it' Sherlock placed his own finger on top of her 'Now you ask a question to your ghost , and the pointer will move giving you the answer. Blame your father if it doesn't work ' 

" He is late." 

'He will be back anytime. We can start again then. Okay ? Now we start. ' 

The land line started ringing. 

' Seriously ? Who calls in a landline?' Sherlock checked his mobile. Battery dead ' Oh! That must be your father. I don't wanna get up. Let him reach the answering machine ' Sherlock paid his attention back to the game , put their fingers on the pointer again, while the phone rang before hitting the machine . But before they could ask any question, there was a knock on the door. ' John is that you? '.He got up to open the door.

This is John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Leave a message.

Sherlock. This is Lestrade. There's been an accident in York Street. We need you to identify a body. The face got all crushed. Records says it's John Watson , but maybe there is a mistake.

Sherlock stood still at that door which he held open for no guest to enter.

"Daddy?" the child's voice trembled with fear and grief " The Ouija spelled…. YES "

**********************************************

The brightness of the festival overpowered the moonlight. There were no cars or cabs , just the happy giggling of children running around in costumes which overshadowed the still escaping tears of the man on his oversized belstaff walking between the crowd.Was it too cold for October or was it just his heart ? His vision blurred when his eyes almost sunk into his tears.The gentle yellow flicker from within the jack-o-lanterns on one of the houses seemed like perpendicular beams of a faded rainbow when it reflected along his eyelashes when he closed his eyes to take a deep breath and allow his long-held tears. The greater part of him hoped for this to be untrue but some part of him was preparing himself for the worse and a tiny unacknowledged part of him knew that John was still there on Baker Street waiting to communicate.

He walked through the empty roads , where someday they admired the stars, he passed by Angelo's where they had their first meal, he walked by that ice cream parlor which used to be their favorite weekend destination, and then he stood blank in front of that tree where they first held hands for no reason at all. He should go back to the house he knew, but his logical mind overruled the vague possibility of anything against science.

'Get in Sherlock' a black Mercedes stopped by.If this would have been a normal day Mycroft would have received mockery or a verbal fight or a defensive behavior from his brother before accepting any help from his brother but today it is like the other man has lost all his sense of defense.So he protested none and gently got inside.

'Could it be twins?' Sherlock thought he was loud enough to reach Mycroft but he realized it never escaped his mouth when it was John who replied, 'It's never twins'

Sherlock looked away from God knows what, he doesn't want to hear John's voices , he wants John. He wants it to be a bad dream, a bad joke.He wants it to get over soon. He wants to see John laughing at him , mocking him for falling into this bad Halloween prank. But if he is sitting inside Mycroft's car, driven by his brother and not any of his brother's minions, Sherlock knew that his wishes have little chance to get granted.

Greg was waiting outside when Mycroft's car reached Bart's. Greg helped Sherlock to open the car's door. That was the last thing Sherlock wanted. To see Greg , to meet any eyes before reaching the morgue. Because he doesn't see, he observes. He observed. He knew. He refused to believe. 'may be a secret twin' he thought.

'it's never twins' John replied.

It was a long way to Bart's but it was a longer way to the morgue. Sherlock's heart stopped watching Molly at the door. Every inch of Molly screamed John's death.At first it was anger with which Sherlock looked at Molly.He fisted his hands, gritted his teeth, his nose , his ears, his face burnt with anger.But then he looked straight at Molly's eyes for long till he could feel the same tears in his own eyes.

'Time of Death - 8.50' that was harsh of Molly to announce this while Sherlock still had a little hope, Greg thought, but both Molly and Sherlock knew that the denial stage was over.

Greg lied. John's face wasn't damaged at all. He looked beautiful, he looked like he was asleep.

'But I am not am I?' Sherlock felt cold fingers interlocking his own.John and Sherlock stood there holding hands watching everyone mourning the loss of a great friend.

The next time Sherlock met Molly's eyes , he found himself lying on his back 'You blacked out.'

Sherlock slowly moved his head scanning the entire room. He could see everyone who cared for him but couldn't see the one he cared for.

' Is it still Halloween ? '

'Yes!' Molly forced an affectionate smile.

'Then I have a game waiting for me '

**********************************************

Never had he thought that he could survive a moment knowing his beloved John has left his life. The first time he had experienced any sense of grief and self-doubt and defeat over his brilliant and overconfident self was when he lost his best friend's wife on his own watch. But this was nothing like that, he doesn't feel defeated, he doesn't feel any grief, he doesn't feel anything. He feels nothing. Staring at the black ceiling of Mycroft's car made more sense than feeling or thinking about anything on his way back to Baker Street. Of course Mycroft is saying something, but that doesn't mean he has to listen. Mycroft surely doesn't want Sherlock to be in Baker Street tonight. He made his intentions very clear when he took a different turn.

'Take me to Baker Street or I'll jump of this car ' seems like Sherlock wasn't that deep into himself as Mycroft had deduced.

''I am not indulging your well constructed plan of self harm Sherlock''

'Take me to Baker Street, that is a lot less effort. I am not going to kill myself.I just need some time alone'

''Dr.Watson is gone. You want me to believe you are not planning to hang yourself dead?''

'Rosie Watson is not losing another parent tonight.I won't do that to her. I won't do that to him.So please..'

On the stairs to his flat he could hear the thud of John's cane from the very first time they visited 221B. If he had known that yesterday was the last time they were climbing those stairs together, he would've have taken John's hand , kissed those knuckles and thanked that wonderful man for their every moment of togetherness . He would've kept John locked in a cell miles away from the world or death. But thinking about what never happened is not the thing which is going to bring John back.If the Ouija Board is true, if John is still out there somewhere, is it not possible to bring him back ?

Sherlock banged the door open , rushed to the Ouija board , misery and anxiety evident in every breath he took. Good thing he left Rosie on Mrs Hudson's watch,so now that he is alone he could finally talk to John and understand the happenings of the day. Sherlock took no time to place his finger on the pointer and shoot his first question. Surprisingly this was straight forward, didn't sound like a man who had just lost the love of his life , didn't sound like a man who had just seen his beloved lying lifeless on a morgue , doesn't sound like a man who an hour ago had accepted the death of his best friend.It's like,he is drowning again. It's like, he is hoping again.

'John … Are you here ? '

There was no responding movement from the game that Sherlock so desperately wanted to be something other than a machine . May be the question needed a little specificity.

'Doctor John Hamish Watson…… Are you here?'

There was no reply again. It was dumb of him to realize after this long that the door wasn't locked and the lights were still on. Summoning dead needed measures. And he took no moment to close the door, look for new candles and finally switching of the lights.He hit his knees and chest hard when he tripped over the Ouija board trying to walk in that dark room. Fuck it! He took the board from the floor and limped his way back to his bed.

' John I know you are here…. Just answer. ' That wasn't a proper question was it? So he repeated his former question ' Doctor John Hamish Watson…… Are you here?'

'John? I felt you at the morgue , you replied earlier , so why not now? Are you here with me John?'

Science or no science, Sherlock wanted that fucking pointer to move.At this very moment Sherlock doesn't want to be that clever bloody genius who fails the basic Idiomotor effect on which the Ouija works. He just wanted an answer be it from John or from his own subconscious, it doesn't matter. He needed something. But maybe was just too clever for the machine.

'Don't play with me. Just move the fucking pointer and get it over with. Yes? '

Nothing

'Just spell Hi to me John… Please '

'Anything John… anything… Just say something please'

'please… Are you here with me John?'

'Is anyone here?'

Nothing

'So you can reply to Rose, but replying to me is so tiring?'

'I saw you there...I SAW YOU THERE AT THE MORGUE… you held my hands ...I felt you…. I FUCKING SAW YOU...… Now you wanna tell me I'm delusional ? It was nothing but my brain? Not happening John Watson. If you think not replying to me will help me to move on, this is the lamest thing I've ever heard. I need you John… and if you are out there somewhere , I only need that to survive. You've left me with Rose, I am not selfish enough to leave her. So I need you as my drug John.. Talk to me…. Something...Are you here?Doctory John Hamish Watson, are you here?'

Nothing

Struck by anger , when the blood flowed into his hand he furiously grasped the useless board and threw it so hard that it hit the wall and broke in half.

The rush of hormones, that uncontrollable anger , the frustration, the loss , that 'Nothing' made his heart to race beyond his control. His head spun and he fell right on the bed. His teeth chattered as he shivered with fever , heart pounding against his chest . The dark room kept on spinning , till the brain gave up and the eyes closed.

When Mrs Hudson brought in tea the next day, Sherlock was still in bed wrapped in his blanket.

She gently woke Sherlock up. When Sherlock opened his eyes… He looked blankly at Mrs.Hudson. There was nothing left in his eyes, no spirit, no hope. He looked pale and worn of.

' I bought your tea dear, freshen up ' Mrs Hudson took the broken pieces of the board to avoid further accident, Sherlock curled up more inside his blanket. The cold was unbearable. 'Rosie wants to see you '

''I can't...Not now ''

'I understand' always the generous.

''Mrs. Hudson?.... Thank you for the blanket ''

'What blanket dear? Do you need one ? '

''No this one's enough''

'Which one?'

**********************************************

A logical man like Sherlock might say it's a hallucination but hallucinating a warm blanket over his dead cold feet, his shivering, shaking body is something a man seeking for things larger than life would never dare to ignore.

If John is really out there and this is not a hallucination, John will come again to him if Sherlock agrees on self-abuse by initially not taking the magic blanket.

'I don't want any guest today, not even Rose '

''Only if you promise me to take care of yourself dear.''

'Mrs.Hudson please ...don't wake me up.'

''Sherlock! I won't say I understand what you are going through. But dear you don't have to do this alone.''

'Only for tonight.I'll be fine.'

Mrs.Hudson left the room soon and that's when for the first time the emptiness of the room got registered causing a striking pain to his chest.All of his emotions came out as tears from his red and swollen eyes. He scrubbed his nose hard inhaling the warm air from within the fabrics of that pillow which already had soaked his tears from the last night.Soon Sherlock slipped away the blanket rejecting it's warm comfort.

Now patience is not that one very specific quality Sherlock Holmes is famous for. So if he refuses to wear his clothes too … will it help in his dead friend's early arrival? Will it make the process any faster?

Now that it's on his mind , is there anyone to stop him from abusing himself?

Ofcourse, there is...The one he is seeking for.

Soon Sherlock was just on his boxers that too for the sake of decency. Sherlock threw all his clothes away from the bed and curled himself to get the maximum of body heat.

Sherlock moaned in pain when for the first time the cold attacked his already bruised knees.His teeth abused his lips making it bleed through the dry skin.As the fever climbed up every muscle of his body started aching. He could feel his racing heart freezing with time.

'I won't mind dying here.' what he said was hardly audible amidst those teeth chattering.

Sherlock Holmes doesn't get a lot of fever but the very few he had experienced as a man ...he always had his best friend by his side. If John would have been here now , he would've laid next to Sherlock sharing the warmest of their blankets, would've kissed Sherlock in the most beautiful way and Sherlock would have drifted to sleep with his head buried inside John's warm chest.

Helpless with need, he gently rubbed his lips on the pillow lying closest to him and soon he was kissing it all over, desperately trying to find John, hugging it at biting it with love, his tongue ached for John's wet touch. He couldn't feel John but the act felt good. Made him warm for a few moments, but it didn't last long.

'so cold…. too cold' he whispered as he shivered.

When finally the cold whipped Sherlock's spine he could help no more but to bite the same pillow in pain and anger and then hugging it tightly to feel some pressure and get some heat. Soon he couldn't breathe enough through his clogged nose and he gasped hard for short breaths. This was the most tiring of all. It weakened Sherlock's will to put in more effort and somehow heightened the logical half which asked him not to wait for a dead man and to shut his eyes and get the desired sleep. And after a while of fighting with his two state of minds the fever finally won and Sherlock buried his head inside the pillow and finally drifted off to sleep.

'You idiot… you couldn't wait till dusk…. could you?' John took the blanket from the floor and wrapped Sherlock up with it. He laid by his side and started caressing Sherlock's hair. Sherlock opened his eyes with the feeling of a cold touch on his temple. Sherlock couldn't see anyone. The touch descended to his lips and then to his neck. It slipped down his chest and he felt a wet kiss on his abdomen.

Sherlock's eyes glittered and a smile on the side of his lip was evident ' Can't see you ' he softly whispered.

There was no answer from the other end, just the touch caressing Sherlock till he finally slept but now with a smile on his face.

When Sherlock woke up the next day , three things came in his mind.

First, he knew John is somewhere, between life and death.

Second, it's either John who came last night or just his brain telling him that it's not an easy job to get to John summoning the dead needed measures.

Third, all he has to do is to find a way to make contact.

Sherlock was still very sick but surfing and gathering information about Planchette seemed like a lot better option than having medicine.

There was an unacknowledged fourth; Sherlock knew he was still in denial and this is all bullshit.

**********************************************

Everything started when I came back from Serbia and Mycroft told me you were dating someone else. I thought it was a whirlwind but I was wrong and you ended up getting married to her. Somebody once asked 'Who leaves a wedding early?' I did. Not because my best friend got married but because for the first time I was sad and uncomfortable around you.The way I felt for you got a lot more deeper and clearer and more meaningful. All of a sudden it all started to make more sense. All of a sudden I knew I lost something to someone which I wanted only for myself..

I was shocked when you asked me to be your best man , shocked to know that you consider me your best friend, but while leaving your wedding I was disappointed at the fact that I was not considered more than that. I was sad. And a tiny bit jealous.

After Mary died we hardly talked.Yes! We solved cases together, but something was off, something was missing till I asked him to move back to Baker Street. He did. We were getting along again. We were laughing again. Rosie was a beautiful child and she completely changed our life. I became responsible, John on the other hand got clumsy.

Talking about role reversed , it was John who was infatuating over me this time. He couldn't keep his eyes off me. He was in love with me every time I smiled. So as I always do I observed and started to smile more around him. No I wasn't trying to woo you with my smile, but the smile on your face watching a happy me was one of the things I loved about my life.

That one time when it rained in an Autumn night and I came back all wet , you couldn't keep your eyes off me. I don't remember you asking me a hand on removing my coat before that day,but before I could even say something I could already feel your warm breath over my neck and you were swiftly taking my Belstaf off me. It was strange what you did but as soon as the coat fell on the ground you realized what you did and soon you saw yourself out of the flat.

I have always loved you , yes! But that night for the first time I felt a need. I wanted you to touch me. I wanted you to do something more.

You got back drunk and sleeping. The cabby helped me to get you up.

I never saw you sleeping before that day. You were beautiful. So beautiful I got my chair and sat the whole night watching your face until I dozed off to sleep. The next day when I woke up with my phone ringing. It was Lestrade. 'Congrats' he said, half laughing half with an attempt of being serious. And I said 'What for?'

He said 'John just blogged how hot you look while sleeping. '

And only then I realized that John wasn't there on the bed. I checked the whole flat. He wasn't there.

'Do you know where he is?' Why wasn't I surprised of his comment? Why was I calm ?

'Yes he is with me. Molly is making him some lemonade.'

'You and Molly? So what was it ? A party to conspire against me? '

'eh.. sort of. He came to my flat and watching him was such a feast I brought some spectators.'

'Some ?'

'Molly and Mrs.H. you might wanna check John's blog.'

Took me less than a minute to get my things and hail a cab to the Scotland yard.

  
  


**(He is looking very hot)** said the first line. Every line had its own drunken mistakes but here is what he tried to write-say.

  
  


**(I am all awake looking at your sleeping detective. That one long curl on his face is like the most beautiful stroke of ink on a blank canvas. But if Sherlock's face is a canvas I would definitely like to add some color to it.The way his shirt is moving matching his heartbeat , is like the most synchronized dance I have ever seen.)** John! The always romantic!

  
  


**(Have I ever complimented his neck?)** No! John! Never ! Please do it.

**( It's so long and thick )** alright!

**( I would have a lot of ground to cover if I ever try to kiss it.)** Oukaay! That's something. Do you really want to ?

  
  


**(If I said I want to kiss Sherlock that's entirely because I am drunk.)** Oh! Here we go again !

**( But if I would have been into men or just a lady , I would definitely start with that long veiny neck. I wonder why a hot man like him is still a virgin. Do you know ? I mean anyone , man or woman, gay or not gay would love to have a fuck with this very attractive and gorgeous man. )** Seriously ?

**(Don't you?)** Do you ?

**(Well it's not a crime,secretly wanting to kiss those luscious pink lips ...well! who wouldn't want to taste some tobacco in London's rain from the detective's warm mouth ? )** Right!

I chose to ignore the hundreds and thousands of comments and knocked Greg's door. Soon I was told my face is all red and that I was blushing.

'He was drunk' I kept a straight voice to defend my not so straight friend.

''He is not now. And he too is amazed to see what he wrote last night'' Molly Hooper everyone!

''Amazed, not shocked Sherlock! '' yeah like you know how to deduce Grahambell!

John was on Greg's laptop when I got inside to get him. He isn't drunk anymore. He definitely was talking to his readers, explaining them the events of last night.

'John?'

He looked at me like never before.

'Go on a walk with me?'

He just nodded.

Back in the street we walked alongside each other without a word. The breeze before the rain played the perfect background along the boots of our shoes. The perfect dim light when the clouds covered the sun.The perfect set when the street lights flickered before lighting up and the make up was done by the thick raindrops that fell on our face.

'You want to take a cab?' I asked

''No'' he replied.

We kept on walking, ignoring the heavy rain.And as we walked, you held my hand and said ''I am reconsidering'' and just like that, you took our friendship to a next level. Swiftly, bravely , sweetly.

So if you want to remember Doctor Watson, you can remember him as the bravest and the kindest and sweetest man on Earth, who was everybody's friend but most importantly he made Sherlock Holmes special.He gave Sherlock Holmes a chance.

Why I chose this particular story for this day is unclear to me . But I did anyways because I had it prepared for our wedding which definitely is not happening anymore. So ...yeah !

But what's a memorial speech without a second half?

Part two !

I need three irrational , sentimental , emotional fools who had immense love for the dear old doctor. Call me crazy but we are gonna bring that beautiful soul back.

**********************************************

Mycroft is quite angry with the stunt Sherlock had pulled earlier this day 'I am done enabling you Sherlock.Your boyfriend is dead, you can act all crazy, but going public is not an option !

Greg and Mrs.Hudson were the spectators at the feast while Molly joined Mycroft at the lecture half…''Sherlock you can't bring John back. John is gone. It's not possible to bring his soul back.But you know what you can ? You can preserve him,by protecting Rosie. She is the only place where a part of John, your John resides now. If you keep hiding from her, you will end up losing her and then yourself"

'You have a brain of a genius my brother and however harsh it may sound…. John's death isn't enough to break those walls'

‘Has anyone ever told you that you are a monster Mycrot Holmes ?’ Mrs. Hudson, the smartest!.

“Yes repeatedly !”

‘You surely have not taken any advice then!’

“But Mr.Holmes is right!” said the Detective Inspector “ If Sherlock keeps on acting all rogue in front of public he will just end up losing people’s trust “

‘I don’t need people’s trust, I need John… I need your help.’

Sherlock was notably calm since no one had showed up from the service and the only people left were his brother and three of his nearest who he didn't want to involve in the first place.

“This is madness! I’ve been there for you every time you asked but I won’t participate in anything which gives you false hope Sherlock ”

‘Not false hope Mycroft. I know he is out there.. I just want to know,he is alright ‘

“Wasn’t bringing him back your idea ?”

' If it is possible, yes! '

"Listen to yourself Sherlock.What is wrong with you. Everyone dies. And dying is where they leave you for real. People don't die to come back.You identified him at the morgue. You cremated him. How in your right mind could you possibly claim the return of a dead man? We are made of matter and nothing else Sherlock. There are no ghosts. John is not coming back to you. Get that straight in your crazy big head...John Watson is dead.Do you understand? John is gone. He is not coming back"

'I felt him!' Sherlock sighed' He replied to the Ouija, he put a blanket over me , I felt his touch. He is here. In this flat! Please just help me contact him and you will find it out yourself'

''Just another reason for doubting your sanity little brother ''

'Please …. When John answers then talk about my sanity again . '

''What do you want us to do Sherlock?`` asked Mrs. Hudson.

' I want you to be with Rose. This can be dangerous. I don't want her here when we call for spirits '

"And what do you want us to do ? " asked Greg.

' I want you to sit with me and help me with the Planchette. '

"And why do you think a man like me would help you in your crazy hunt? " Mycroft, the great!

'Because you are my brother. And I need you. Now sit down.'

The stage was set, curtains closed, lights turned off, candles lit, four of them circled around the planchette. Sherlock sat in between Molly and Lestrade, Molly sat in between Sherlock and Mycroft.

'If John doesn't reply, you are going back to normal life Sherlock ' Molly whispered.

''Right after his visit to the mental asylum I believe''

Mycroft's comment earned a l snort from Greg.

' It's not funny, you know! If you can't pay respect to a dead man what good are you two? You can stay or leave… but if you stay I need you to show some humanity , be a little respectful to both my partner and my feelings for him and stop mocking my sanity! May be I am insane and all these were just my brain but I need to know that too.And I can only do that by doing this. So help me if you want to or leave!'

Of Course they didn't.They stayed and kept their mouths shut. Because whatever they do or say they will always be there for the mad detective.

'So how does this work?' Molly broke the silence.

"mmm…Well… we will have to hold each other's hands , close our eyes and pray for John to visit like we mean it. If he is here we'll know. "

'Wow ! Is that from a book or a movie? " Mycroft can't control his sarcastic self . Can he ?

'' YouTube! Is it helping ? ''

Molly held Mycroft and Sherlock's hands together with a firm grip ' Shall we start?'

Soon all of them sat ready for the process. They closed their eyes and waited for Sherlock to start.

'If you are here, talk to us John Watson.' Sherlock started.

'If You Are Here , Talk To Us John Watson.' everyone joined.

'IF YOU ARE HERE, TALK TO US JOHN WATSON' The callings went louder.

'if you are here, talk to us John Watson' Mrs.Hudson prayed from downstairs.

Soon they all opened their eyes in unison when they felt the planchette shaking ruthlessly.

'Stop it!' Molly cried.

'Stop this!' Greg shouted

'Stop shaking the board, Sherlock!' Mycroft ordered.

'It's not Sherlock' Sherlock replied.'It's me , John Watson' Sherlock opened his bloodshot eyes and looked directly at Mycroft.

'Good Lord!'

''John?'' Molly exhaled

'Seriously Ms.Hooper? Are you really buying this ? '

'why would Sherlock fake it Mr.Holmres? '

"Ask him!"

'Sherlock, isn't faking anything.I am who I say I am Stop being an arsehole Mycroft. Your brother is in pain but all you do is mock him. Give him a break and tell me what you want. I can't be here forever you know'

''Will Sherlock know , you were inside him ?'' Molly enquired.

'I don't know Molly. I don't get called as much'

"Sorry for that doctor , although I believe it to be just another attempt to involve us in your silly little tricks Sherlock. Stop this now " ordered Mycroft.

'Mycroft Holmes, your fat brain is stopping you from believing anything which is against your belief. And that's the only thing which makes Sherlock superior to you. '

Now Mycroft is done listening from a rogue man imitating an annoying spirit and he wanted to confront the John in Sherlock, ghost or a crack in his mind, directly. He needed to analyze if it's really illness or Sherlock's annoying attempt to cover the planchette's failure. "Are you really John Watson?"

'If you are really Mycroft Holmes '

"Yeah… I don't take sass from a dead man ! Are you John Watson ? "

' Yes… I am '

''No , John is dead! ''

'And I am his bloody spirit. You all participated in the planchette… What do you think I am ? '

''Why do you think you are John Watson ? ''

' Sherlock .. is not insane. '

" Yes ! But you are making him one. If you are really John Watson, and making contacts , why are you depriving him of this meeting ? Don't you think that giving him false hope is the last thing he needs now? "

' I believe, it's the hope which is keeping him alive. Congratulations when I say... you people are the busiest of all the Londoners because you couldn't afford enough time to come and stay with a man who had just lost his partner. I had to linger here to keep him alive.And pardon me for making contacts because I felt it was the right thing to do, since I don't see him alive without the hope that he could bring me back, and you guys are doing incredibly bad to keep him going.'

''If you care for my brother so much,then why pulling this stunt and make him the medium? If you are really not his brain and a spirit, choose any of us. Why him ? "

'You all weren't paying much attention of course.He was the most vulnerable of you lot,making him the best medium.Why are you people not trusting him? He is not wrong when he says I made attempts to make contact.He is torturing himself , you people need to support him, but all you do is to treat him like a lunatic.'

" I'll pay more attention this time,will you leave his body and make me the medium, " expressed Molly

' you will always be less vulnerable than Sherlock '

''Stop it with the tricks Sherlock. Just because Molly Hooper is an idiot, it doesn't mean we will take part in all your manipulative games. You are making up stories now, because your Planchette has failed you. You are going to Sherinford, talk to someone and you are going to sort your brain before it's too late.You can't buy more time faking John Watson' Mycroft broke the circle, and Sherlock's head fell straight on the board as John's spirit abandoned Sherlock's body. 'I don't want to hear anymore of this. You are going to a cell, first thing tomorrow, and you come back when and if you are mentally fit.'

'what-what happened?' Sherlock startled as he got back to his senses when Mycroft banged the door shut and left the flat.

'You got a psychotic attack!' Greg sighed and got up to leave the flat .

Sherlock looked blankly at Molly.

'Sherlock, you can either believe that John showed up and chose you the medium , or you can acknowledge the fact that you are ill.'

'' John-He came ? "

'It seemed so. '

"When-Where was I? - What happened ?"

' So you felt nothing ? '

"What ? "

"He was inside you. You spoke for John Watson "

" I was his medium ? Why was I his medium ? Why would he do that ? Ofcourse they consider me mad. Ofcourse! Am I ? What do you think Molly ? Am I getting crazy ? Was it really a psychotic breakdown or you believe it was John "

'You were the most vulnerable, he said. And you will always be the most vulnerable when it's about John.'

''This-this is nonsense. ''

'That's what you said when you were …. '

"You don't believe me either , do you ? "

'More than them. But seeing a doctor sounds fine, right? All I know is, you will get better if you see a doctor. Because that's what he wants too. If he is for real he worries about you. But most importantly he wants you to live. '

"I wanted to talk to him, you know ?Not because I thought I could bring him back, but because I wanted to see him for the last time.Because, I wanted to say to him good bye.Because I won't be able to say I love you to someone ever again. Because for once I wanted to get a glimpse of how he is . I wanted to tell him how much I miss him. And for how long I have loved him.I wanted to say I LOVE YOU.But…. Why would he give me that pleasure, when I sat there playing games with his daughter, when he got crushed under a car? Why would he?"

'We can try again. Again and again! Or! You can say goodbye to him now and move on Sherlock and let him move on as well. He can listen to you Sherlock, he is right here with us, isn't it?'

''Yes!'' Sherlock's voice broke.

'Are you going to Sherrinford?'

'Will you take care of Rose?'

'Yes!'

'

'Will you tell Rosie , I am sorry ? And I love her and I miss her ? '

'Are you going to kill yourself after I leave you here ? '

'May be , if I am entirely hopeless ' Sherlock smiled

'I believe in John Watson'

As Molly left, Sherlock blew the candles off and walked to his room to wait for the sunrise. He didn't torture himself this time. He was still a little sick but he was too angry at John to abuse himself with cold. Move on, Molly said. Maybe this time Sherlock could really use 'moving on' to get back to John.

**********************************************

Sherlock sounded much better from the very little he spoke.But that's how he was before, a sociopath.So this wasn't a concern for Mycroft Holmes.Rather he was satisfied enough with Sherlock's progress which seemed like Sherlock has deleted the entire John is a spirit episode from the mind palace of his and Mycroft is fine with that. Because Sherlock now acknowledges that John is dead and CCTV footages showed clips of Sherlock mourning for his dead friend.

One month after his therapy he had asked Mycroft to put flowers in front of John's picture everyday, and Mycroft took it as a sign of his brother's getting better.Mycroft couldn't be more happier when Sherlock showed the first sign of a sound and rational mind when he with his logic and reasons put forward his statement of how he thinks he is unfit to raise Rosie and that they needed to search for a good foster home, and made Mycroft to do all the necessary within the following month and finalized the best foster home for Rosie.

Rosie shifted with the foster parents last week and three months of brilliant performance rewarded Sherlock in his release from Sherrinford, and Sherlock couldn't be more happy on himself. He surely misses Rosie and is sad enough to give her away but he has a brother who can change the law and bring Rosie back to them if Sherlock anyhow manages to bring John back.

The first thing Sherlock did entering London was to kick Mycroft out of his flat and visit the nearest disc.

Two shots. That's all it took for Sherlock to gather himself and rose his ass up from the chair he was sitting and gracefully walk himself in between the crowd which danced like there is no tomorrow.

The intention was not getting lost in the crowd of nomads, rather to spot the most drunken handsome gay to take home with.

Three he spotted but chose the one who looked the strongest, with the most muscle and whose eyes had the most predatory glare.

Sherlock's hips swung from one side to the other with the most grace as his dancers' legs rolled to reach the most muscular man of tonight and stood in front of him, blocking his view.

Sherlock waved his body wiggling his arse, following the rhythm of the music to please the man in front. The man surely enjoyed the lean beautiful man and his flirtatious dance . Sherlock made sure that there is no space in between them and very smoothly took the other man's palms and placed them on Sherlock's own arse cheeks.

Although it was intentional, Sherlock's whole body shivered with terror and disgust when the man grabbed his behinds and rubbed himself against Sherlock's denim-clad-bulk. His hands started to knead Sherlock's arse and without a proper warning rose both his hands to give some quick and hard slaps on both of Sherlock's buttcheeks. This made Sherlock to lose his control over his feet and his body slammed hard against the other man's chest.This time the man grinded his chest against Sherlock's nipples and his dick harshly grinded Sherlock's groin without any mercy.

Sherlock was getting mad at the feeling that someone's dick is mercilessly abusing his own, he is getting slapped brutally on his arse and is getting treated like a whore.

But he had invited it. This is exactly what he needed to tempt John. Exactly that which would force John the show himself. All he has to do now is to bring this man home and act a little lovey-dovey for John. Just a little foreplay and John would come jumping from wherever he is. If in case John gets smarter enough to understand the lie of it, even then he will definitely come to save Sherlock from the brutal monster this man is.

Sherlock took deep breaths to finally speak in the man's ear 'my place' to which he kicked Sherlock on the balls hard and the shock from the sudden attack felt much lesser than the immediate pain he felt.

It felt like he is having a migraine inside his testicles.He immediately fell on the floor gathering the attention of the dancing crowd, holding his belly tight forcing pressure to the stomach muscles which had already started to feel like it's crumbling and that he has an upset stomach and as if he is about to defecate all over the floor. He keels over in pain as if he's about to birth his own testicles without an epidural. The only feasible remedy seemed like to curl up in a fetal position and grind his teeth in pain and anger.

Sweat ran over his face as he watched the man looking at him like a hawk , he had a grin on the side of his dark brown lips, but his face was red with both lust and anger 'I am not your whore' he said, 'You whore!' he spat.

This somehow brought Sherlock back to his senses. He cursed himself for the dangerous move he took and all he wanted now was to get himself out of this terrible place and away from all the judgy eyes and the man's evil glare.

He gathered himself and started limping towards the exit. He didn't look back but as soon as the music faded as he walked out and away from the disc, he heard footsteps that followed him all the way.

Sherlock's heart stopped and for a moment he realized his mind wasn't clear enough to think anything other than the fear of getting raped. He started swallowing in anticipation and slowly turned his head around to see the same man obviously. 'I-' Sherlock stammered 'I-ddont!-want to '

''But you make me hungry'' he said ''if not horny'' he smirked.

The blunder he had made.

'Please. I wasn't trying to insult you. I am sorry '

''But you surely are in a lot of pain lad. And you are mad at me...you are furious with anger. If I let you go today you will come again tomorrow for a payback. Won't you? How in my sound mind can I allow that?''

'I-I won't. I won't' Sherlock was cursing himself for his idiotic actions. Why there is no cab? Can he outrun this man, limping ? And the pain. The pain!

''I learned not to trust you richass twinks at a very young age. Now lad, you can take a cab or you can limp back to your house. I have a wife in my house and I am surely not spending my money buying a room for your limping ass. So I am gonna follow you whatsoever and I am gonna have you in t minus ten minutes. Reach your house before that because I won't mind a streetfuck."

Outrunning this man is impossible if he doesn't get a transport soon.Anything would do, anything with a wheel and a crowd.He started limping as fast as possible to search for a cab, while the man followed as promised.Begging him for mercy won't work now.It was Sherlock who started it and now the man wants to finish . If somehow he manages to take him to Baker Street,there will be John to save him. He has to go to Baker Street, or the police station, or Mycroft , any of the three. And John was his answer. He cursed himself for his foolishness but stuck to the plan whatsoever.

Nothing, no cab, no bus! Not any transport,nothing! Just a dark night, a vacant street and the next probable rape victim with a mad rapist following him.

As the final minute arrived, Sherlock's eyes watered as he realized he should have taken the route to his brother's flat rather than resting his hopes on someone who is dead and who doesn't care. He stopped limping and stood steady. Preparing himself for the storm to come.

''Good boy !' the man said from behind 'Look how beautiful your body looks… Weak, hurt, lost, defeated. But you know the one thing which is making you more gorgeous ? Is that, you are still not ready for this, you are trying but you are failing. And I am gonna enjoy this beautiful you as long as I want. If you don't follow me now , I am gonna fuck you naked here in this very street. And then I am gonna keep your richass clothes and trust me when I say you'll put the stage on fire. Londoners will be very pleased to smack those arse if not whipping those perky nipples the first option ''

Sherlock knew that he had lost the game, and following him is the only thing that could save him at least from the public humiliation.

"So you want to get fucked here? Or are you gonna follow me" he smacked Sherlock's arse hard and repeated the question. When Sherlock didn't answer , he clutched Sherlock's curls and roughly pulled his hair back and repeated the same question.Slowly Sherlock nodded a yes.

In no minute a car came to take them and the man spent no time and started undressing Sherlock.As Sherlock resisted he choked Sherlock with one hand , and used another to undo Sherlock's own belt to tie Sherlock's arms with those. He pulled Sherlock's pants down. And started licking Sherlock's balls wetting the underpants Sherlock wore. This made Sherlock miserable. He had never allowed anyone other than John to touch him and this is not what he is used to. This is not how he had been treated earlier. He needs to free himself. He has to go. He needs an escape plan, but looked like he was already out of breath as the other man started stroking Sherlock's dick hard and without mercy.Before Sherlock could do anything, the car stopped. The driver came out and opened the door. Sherlock was ashamed,putting all his effort to cover himself to hide his nakedness from the driver, but the driver looked at Sherlock with the same lust as his master's and Sherlock shut his eyes closed to avoid the predatory glares.

When the master pulled Sherlock out of the car, Sherlock wanted to die out of shame as he found himself standing in a lawn, abused and naked.

''Bring him inside" the master walked ahead leaving Sherlock with the driver.

'Help me' Sherlock begged to the driver.

''Walk Dog'' the driver smacked Sherlock's arse and held Sherlock by the nape of his neck forcing him to walk till they reached the masters den.

"Prepare him " the master ordered.

Soon Sherlock was on a bed , on his chest , both hands and legs chained on each side of the bed , the last touch, a ball gag. But before putting the gag on, the driver sat in front of Sherlock and very carefully admired the beauty of a scared , haunted, gorgeous victim. 'You are not gonna get a single kiss today Mister Holmes' and he pressed his dry manly lips against Sherlock's ignoring all the resistance from the other man. And as the driver's tongue destroyed John's last taste from Sherlock's mouth the master entered the room.

"You started without us?" The master laughed.

"Oh boy!" He slapped Sherlock's bare ass." Looks like you are quite popular among my friends detective " And before Sherlock knew, ten, if not more men took turns to shove Sherlock's arse and they kept on fucking Sherlock mercilessly and without any rest. After slapping him out of his sleep ,the fourth time he had passed out, they used pegs to keep Sherlock's eyes open refraining him from the rest he needed. While his eyes were pegged open and burning with pain, he kept his eyes fixed on the damped ceiling of that awful room and prayed for John to come and save him from the horror he is living in, till four of them blocked his view and took turns to fuck his mouth.

When they were done raping Sherlock, leaving him drenched in cum and piss,people exchanged suggestions of what to do with Sherlock now. Whether to keep him or not. If keeping him is the option then for how long? Or is it better to invite some other men right here right now to fuck him so much that he finally dies losing his breath.Or is it not the best to put a bullet on his head immediately and throw him on the Thames?

Keeping Sherlock out and alive is the most dangerous game no one wanted to play.

The driver had the best plans for Sherlock. He wanted to sell Sherlock to a dealer and share the money thus earned.

Sherlock listened to them in horror, unable to speak through his gag. When the driver's plan got the most votes Sherlock screamed through the gag and threw his hands and legs to break the chains.

'Look ! He approves! ' the driver laughed.To which Sherlock started to panic and struggle more against the chains.

The master was awfully quiet. Although he had agreed to the driver's plan initially, as Sherlock struggled to escape he got up and sat on top of Sherlock, and started to mouthfuck the slave again When he reached orgasm he cummed on Sherlock's face and neck and chest again to add some wet strokes beside the ones that had already dried . He then simply took his phone out and took a snap of Sherlock's state.

'Now!' he said. 'I will let you go lad. But If you ever try to tell anyone about last night or me, or this placeI I'll put hundreds and thousands of your naked posters all over London.'

The master walked away from the room for a few minutes and walked back again with Sherlock's clothes. He threw the clothes at Sherlock's face and ordered the driver to undo the chains.

Sherlock's hands trembled when he slid the clothes away from his face and people could see every bone in his body shaking with fear and trauma and pain when he sat enough to get dressed.

When Sherlock got himself dressed again, the master opened the door of the room and stood by the side of the door with an escorting smile.

Sherlock struggled to stand up. His entire body was under massive pain from the abuse. God! how he wanted to rest. But not here of course. He wouldn't miss the opportunity to walk away from a place where half of the people wants to shag him to death. Sherlock couldn't look at any of them in their eyes, rather as he walked towards the door people lost no opportunity to beat Sherlock's ass and humiliate him through words. He could hear the clicks of their phones.

'wiggle that ass more' one said as he filmed Sherlock.

When Sherlock reached the door, the man blocked the exit and slipped some cash inside the pocket of Sherlock's belstaff. 'Thank you for your service' he grinned ' I'll teach you how to please your masters more,next time we meet. '

Sherlock looked at the master with both fear and rage , but helplessly enough walked out of the damned place without a word.

Sherlock had no idea where they had kept him the whole night, but it wasn't a long way from the disc where it all started. He searched for his phone to call a cab. But the phone wasn't there and so he walked as long as his body allowed before finally giving up and sitting on the sidewalk. He stayed there looking vacantly at the road. He wasn't thinking about the night, he wasn't thinking about John's death, he wasn't thinking about John's spirit, the Ouija , the planchette, Rosie, Sherinford, the disc, the rape. He was letting himself to settle his breaths, feel the physical pain he had, to distract him from emotional torture that awaited. He just sat there breathing. In and out. In and out.

Sherlock realized exactly how long he sat there when the street light flickered on his face. It was already evening. He gathered himself and started walking. There was no life , no grace in the walk. He walked like a dead man. He stopped at a florist and bought John's favorite flowers with the money he earned for his service last night.

Sherlock was finally home. He exchanged the dead flowers with the new one and lit a candle besides John's photograph.

'This is the only place where I can see you on my reflection' Sherlock sighed. 'This is the last time I am trying John. Trying to contact you. If you don't show up, I will have my answer. I have tried every means to reach you, you never showed up. And then I tried to make you jealous by moving on , but it didn't go well. I am not fine John. I am in extreme pain and I need you badly. I can't do this anymore. I just want to see you one last time' Sherlock's eyes watered and his vision blurred ' I-please… one last time . The most merciful today proposed to put a bullet in my head and I agree with him. So , If I am standing here and asking you for a visit for this one time , because I want to wave you a final goodbye John!'

Sherlock waited like he does, but this time too, John has managed to successfully live up to his reputation of disappointing Sherlock.

'Can't do this. Not alone .' Sherlock sobbed. Sherlock unlocked the shelf and brought John's sig out. 'Please..' Sherlock begged for one last time and put the gun against his head. 'So I suppose , you are not going to come. Alright then' Sherlock shut his eyes closed to remember one last time, the precious moments he had stored in his mind palace.

'Afghanistan or Iraq'.'You are an idiot' 'you are my best friend' 'I love you Sherlock' revisited his mind. Tears escaped from his shut eyes as he squeezed them hard preparing himself to pull the trigger.

'Stop' John's voice echoed in the room. Sherlock held his breath and immediately opened his eyes.

It was John standing, on the same clothes he wore the day he died. He looked glorious, like a god , he looked majestic. Sherlock feigned a smile.'Thought you'd be more delighted to see me ' John said , concern all over his face

''I have been feigning smile since you died, now I think I have forgotten how to smile without faking it. Real or Hallucination?"

'What do you think?'

"You are beautiful."

'The sig!'

"Yeah. My last resort" he smiled again.

'Ohkay!' John gave the permission.

''Sure?"

'I thought you could live without me. But you can't. So yes! It's okay. Stop punishing yourself. I am not real Sherl. You made me up. To punish yourself. You have been lying to yourself since the first game. No one was there outside the door. But you desperately wanted it to be me. So you hallucinated me at the morgue. That day when you were sick, you hallucinated me again, you hallucinated everything. They were right when the said you had a psychotic break, I wasn't inside your body, I was always inside your head. But you crossed the line last night, and how I know this ? I know this because I am you and you know that. Right?'

"At least I have survived more than what people thought I could without John. So Mycroft was right indeed? I am mad! But nobody will know now. Thanks for coming in the last minute. Real or Hallucination, Goodbye John Watson. "

Sherlock pointed the sig at John . 'I love you' John smiled.''I love you too" Sherlock pulled the trigger. The first bullet went through John's image and got stuck in the Baker Street wall. The final one went right through his own head painting the Baker Street red with blood.

When Sherlock opened his eyes the next time,he saw his body lying dead on the floor.

'You moron' Sherlock turned around to see John floating in the air like a feather. 'yes congratulations Sherlock , you too are a ghost now'

Sherlock smiled at the eye roll John gave. A genuine smile. ' So…?'

John flew to Sherlock and held Sherlock's hands to help him float. 'So...now , we fly'

**********************************************


End file.
